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This is all you will need, Lunara. Learn it well and use it wisely.
“Wait.” Fern rubbed at her temples. “They did what?”
Lunara shook her head, not fully understanding what she was reading. “I have no idea.”
Why she trusted an unknown creature’s words was beyond her, but they started from the spot marked by the note, loath to waste time if the things that came before were useless to them.
Between chaotic poems and scribbled pictures that made her eyes cross, an absolutely mind-bending story was unraveling. They were on the last section of text, no closer to an actual solution, and so much of it was nonsense that she was ready to scream.
It was almost enough to make her doubt that earlier certainty.
Fern wiggled closer, her hair tickling Lunara’s nose. “Read the last part again.”
“‘Their Essence was bound—one willing, one not. Sacrifice made, the Hand rose up, his mighty fingers clawing to encase the scourge, and sleep was theirs thereafter and a day as immortal.’”
“Sure.” Fern nodded, still staring at the page. “Well? Keep going.”
“You’re right here, Fern. Read it yourself.”
“Can’t. I don’t speak that language.”
“What are you talking about? It’s in the common tongue.”
Fern scoffed. “No it’s fucking not. That right there’s a load of squiggled nonsense, my friend.”
Lunara swallowed, a creeping crawl working its way down her spine. “It’s all n-normal lettering to me, as if it was written yesterday. In the common tongue.”
“Your eyes went all swirly and shit when you opened the book,” Fern murmured, shrugging. “I thought you cast a spell, but maybe your Tear Stone just knew what to do.”
Lunara hadn’t felt…anything.
It’s fine. It’s fine! You’ll be fine. You’re fine.
Fern kept going, as if she hadn’t just swept Lunara’s feet out from under her. “Anyway, ‘one willing, one not’ is ominous as fuck, eh? Sacrifice made? I know you, and this is…” She laughed. “I mean, come on. It’s like they knew exactly who they were talking to.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you’re way too fucking willing to throw yourself in harm’s way for the people around you, and it wouldn’t take more than a few days in your presence to know that. What if it’s a trick, eh? A trap set just for you, and you’re walking right into it.”
Lunara thought about it for a moment. “No. Trust me, Fern. This is it. It just doesn’t make any damned sense yet.”
Fern pursed her lips, fist rubbing at her chest. “Yeah. I feel it, too. It’s right, but…I don’t like it. Something about it hurts.”
Shite, everything bleeding hurts, all the time.
And Lunara was tired of it.
She cleared her throat, plowing forward. “The next to last part reads like one of the Oracle’s riddles. ‘A burn comes next. A searing. It is not light that combats Night, but flames both cosmic and cleansing.’ But do they mean it was part of the binding thing that happened, or something else?”
“I don’t know, but cosmic, cleansing flames? That sounds like you in the chasm when you turned those shitbags to ash and saved our sorry arses.” Fern huffed. “Even though the notion of a star exploding is fucking crazy, if I ever had to describe what it might look like, that would be it. You would be it.”
“Blessed moons.” Lunara blinked. “What if it is? About me, I mean.” Heart pounding, she recalled something Endellion said to her that awful day. “Right before I did it, the Oracle spoke to me. ‘Burn, sister. Shine. Unleash fire on night.’ Here”—she pointed at a single word on the page—“you can’t see it, but Night is capitalized. Like a name. What if it was a name when she said it, too?”
“Then you’ve got someone named Night being directly mentioned to you multiple times while there’s a dark bitch eating at Brand’s insides. I’m gonna say it’s not a coincidence.”
“Oh my stars. Dark. Like…” Sweat broke across Lunara’s brow. “Like the ease in your eyes when you step into the shade. The snuffing of a candle. The final setting of a sun. That glorious winking out of harsh light.”
“Yeah.” Fern shivered and gave her a side-eyed look. “I suppose that’s one way to put it.”
